Shattered Remains of Fatality
by tigers-snipers-and-rifles
Summary: A little bit of Reichenbach. {MorMor}


_The stone was placed carefully against the leather pad and the rubber band binding the pad and wood together was slowly stretched back, angled into the correct position, and finally released. The reasonably large stone fired through the air at such a speed, the young bird didn't have time to react or take flight before it was sent crashing to the ground with a faint thud._

_Sebastian Moran smiled gleefully to himself and ran over to the tree he had aimed at, and just as predicted, found the lifeless bird sprawled over the ground, feathers mangled and sticking out in all directions. He slipped the slingshot into his back pocket again with a satisfied smirk and proceeded to crouch down, bringing the paralysed creature into his hands to examine. The young boy cautiously prodded a finger at its soft chest, but the bird stayed limp and unmoving._

_"Mom! Mom! Guess what I found!" Sebastian shouted excitedly when he ran down the hall and into the kitchen where his mother was cooking, a huge waft of newly baked cakes which filtered through the whole room pleasantly filling his nostrils. He held out his finding when Eleanor finally stopped what she was doing and turned around to see his discovery._

_"Now what have I told you about bringing dead birds home?" She let out an exaggerated sigh and folded both arms across her flour covered chest. She was too used to seeing her son coming home with a bird in his hands to be bothered much by it any more. She mostly found them hidden in Sebastian's room somewhere, thinking his mother wouldn't find them. But she always did. The putrid smell was obvious, and always helped to lead her to their hiding spots. Under the bed or stuffed at the back of his wardrobe, Sebastian still continued to 'collect' them no matter how many times he was told off. Once he'd even brought home a squirrel._

_"I want to keep him as a pet." The seven year old stared up at his mother hopefully, disappointed when she slowly shook her head. Eleanor leaned down so she came to eye level with her son, resting a hand on his bony shoulder._

_"The birdie is gone now, love. You can't keep him." She told him gently, despairingly glancing down at the frail bird cupped in Sebastian's dirty hands. He was such a messy child, always getting covered in dirt or returning with a new cut that was crusted over with blood. Strangely, Sebastian never cried. It didn't matter how hard he hit the ground, a tear was never shed. If he was upset or hurt, he'd cling onto Eleanor for comfort though. Which she always provided._

_"Why?" Sebastian questioned with a pout, his pale eyes on his mother for a reason. Why couldn't he keep the bird? Surely he wasn't doing it any harm. It was hardly gone if he was still holding it._

_"You see, when something goes, it can't come back, sweetheart. Just like this little birdie. He will never be able to wake up again." Eleanor explained, giving her son a sympathetic look. She didn't want to be too straightforward, as Sebastian couldn't fully understand the concept of death yet. Even his father, who had went out to war, would never come home. Sebastian only assumed he was away on a very long holiday that happened to be the story he had been told, seeing as his mother couldn't bring herself to tell him at such a young age._

_"Is he sleeping?"_

_"Yes. Except he's gone into a deep sleep forever."_

_"Why won't the birdie wake up again?"_

_"Because he doesn't want to. He's happier now. And he won't be if you stick him under your bed, sweetheart."_

_Sebastian looked down at the floor guiltily, knowing perfectly well what his mother meant. She placed a hand under his chin and brought his head back up so he could concentrate on her once more. "Why don't we bury him out in the garden, hmm? Then he can sleep without anyone disturbing him ever again."_

_"What if he's lonely?"_

_"He'll have other birdie friends that will look after him when he goes to heaven. He'll be very happy there."_

_"How will he get there?" Sebastian questioned further, taking his mother's hand and holding the bird in his other as she led them outside into the backyard. It was small and there wasn't much room to it, but the young bird wouldn't take up a lot of space after all._

_"His friends will come and find him. Then he'll never be sad again."_

_Eleanor helped Sebastian bury the poor creature in a small patch of earth beside the roses and tulips. They had created a big enough hole for it to be laid down inside, having used Eleanor's gardening tools. She let Sebastian shovel the soil over the bird by himself, and afterwards, he placed a stone over the tiny grave to mark where it was so it was easier to remember and he could visit it whenever he pleased as his mother had suggested._

_"Now say goodbye to the birdie before he goes, love." Eleanor said softly, taking Sebastian's smaller hand in her own and squeezing it lightly once they stood up to head back inside._

_"Goodbye birdie."_

* * *

Eyes trained on his victim, the sniper watched carefully through the scope of his rifle whilst the two men discussed, unaware of the fate that would abruptly strike them next. He couldn't hear them because of the far off distance, yet he knew it was based upon brutal consequences and death.

The sniper had seen many deaths in his life, most mainly caused by himself. He'd watched friends die at war during his military service, either blown up, or shot, it meant nothing to him any more. Death wasn't a life choice. It came so suddenly you had no time to think. You'd never fully realise what had just happened, or know the full reasons why your life had ended so unexpectedly. Unless you chose to take that path yourself. That was a different matter.

His main target hadn't arrived yet, though he kept his eyes focused on the roof. Watching, wanting to know what was being said, what was happening. One man would die, the other would live. It had been planned, he had set everything up on his boss's orders, rifle at the ready, waiting for some sort of signal.

Nothing came.

Improvisation. That's what it was. He could be trusted to do this himself, relied upon to carry out his orders. Once it was over, everything could go back to normal. No detective. No distractions. Just the two of them and no one else. Then he'd finally be happy, just himself, and Jim.

Until someone else extraordinary came along and took his attention away from the sniper once more. He was ignored, a nobody. He wasn't special, or particularly interesting. He couldn't possibly reach Jim's standards. He wasn't Sherlock Holmes. He was simply... Sebastian. Ordinary, _normal_. So why should he matter? He only worked for the man. A sniper like any other.

It shouldn't have meant anything. This. Everything. He was treated like a dog anyway. Like a _pet_. A filthy animal who's opinion didn't matter. Yet he couldn't bring himself to leave the man, there was something about him that brought him closer, imprisoning him in Jim's insane world.

The two men shook hands, indicating their final game coming to a close. The end of the story. A fairytale as Jim would refer it to. Except this was anything but a fairytale. Villains never got their happy endings.

_You see, when something goes, it can't come back, sweetheart. Just like this little birdie. He will never be able to wake up again. _

He embraced himself, motionless, his vision getting blurry as his eyes began to well up. The gun was raised, the shot ringing deafeningly in his ears and the bullet made impact.

"Goodbye, Jim." He whispered, wondering if he could have stopped him. If he could have been there to save him. But he'd failed.

_Is he sleeping?_

_He's gone into a deep sleep forever. He's happier now. _

And as the magpie plummeted to the ground, Sebastian Moran swore to himself he'd chase the criminal down into hell and follow him, just as he'd always done.


End file.
